


An Arrangement

by WarlordFelwinter



Series: Destiny / Iron Lords [6]
Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Warlord Felwinter, iron lords - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 23:58:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlordFelwinter/pseuds/WarlordFelwinter
Summary: A chance encounter in the Mothyards leads to another... and promises to be more in the future





	An Arrangement

“Why are you following me?”

The statement came with the sharp threat of light at the back of Timur’s neck. Less a question than a warning. He recognized the strange voice, that deep accent and slight crackle of static, and knew he had been caught.

“You’re the one behind me,” Timur said, not moving or looking back. “I think I could ask you the same thing.”

The warning light went away and he heard the shift of boots on rock.

“I know you,” Felwinter said.

Timur stood, turning as he did to look at the other Warlock. He was still helmeted and a hint of void light remained in his hand. Timur removed his own helmet as a friendly gesture.

“I believe we’ve met,” he said, recalling the incident in the Mothyards when Felwinter had nearly shattered all of his ribs, and trying to pretend like he hadn’t been stalking Felwinter.

“ _Lord_ Timur,” the other said, drawing the honorific out with an almost sarcastic tilt.

Interesting, Timur thought. He wasn’t the only one who had done research. He replied in kind.

“ _Warlord_ Felwinter,” he drawled, grinning when he saw the Warlord’s fist clench. Oh, yes, he had done his research. What little there was to be had. Not many knew about the elusive Warlord and those who did knew very little, other than he had laid claim to a mountain and spent much of his time roaming.

“You don’t seem frightened,” Felwinter commented, his stance shifting slightly.

“Should I be?” Timur asked. “You know me and mine. We don’t fear Warlords.”

“So I have heard.”

“And here I have you alone,” Timur said. “So very far from your territory.”

“And what do you plan to do about it?” Felwinter said quietly, the challenge clear in his voice and maybe a hint of amusement. He was not impressed with Timur’s posturing. Timur wasn’t surprised. Where Felwinter had a reputation, it was fearsome. He would prefer not to get into a fight with the other Warlock without the backup of the Iron Lords.

“I haven’t decided,” he said. “Tell me, Warlord, what  _are_ you doing so far from your mountain?”

“Am I?” Felwinter asked.

Timur did not, actually, know. Felwinter was rumored to have a mountain-top throne, but no one seemed to know which mountain or where in the world it was.

“It’s unlike Warlords to roam.”

“How would you know?”

Fair point. He didn’t like how the Warlord was turning this on him. He was used to being in control of his conversations.

“You have not yet explained yourself,” Felwinter continued. “Why are you following me? And don’t play dumb. I know you aren’t, and it’s almost insulting you think I’ll fall for it.”

Timur smiled. “I admit… you intrigue me. We met only briefly before but you left quite the impression… on my ribs particularly.”

An odd clacking noise came from behind the helmet, accompanied by a static burst that sounded almost like a huff of laughter.

“And I told myself I had heard your name before… It took a bit of asking around, but I found you. A Warlord… I’m curious what other secrets you hide beneath that helmet.”

Felwinter tilted his head slightly.

“Why are you back in the cosmodrome?” Felwinter asked. “You had no way of knowing I would come here.”

“Presumptuous,” Timur said. “Perhaps you are not my only reason for being here.”

“You were here before,” Felwinter said. “What do you seek?”

“Information,” Timur said, deciding it was time to act on a hunch. “There was a golden age company… powerful scientists. Full of secrets…” He stepped closer to Felwinter, who tensed. “I’ve found so many rumors and figments. I’m…  _this_ close to uncovering something huge, I can  _feel_ it..” He held a finger and thumb up, a millimeter apart, letting frustration leak into his voice.

He stepped back and rolled his shoulders, seeming to shake it off. “I don’t recall who I was before I was risen, but I believe I died in the Collapse. Many did. I was risen after everything went quiet.. But I’ve heard whispers of fantastic beasts that rose when everything else fell. Machines. Built for war, but with minds of their own. These things are not unconnected.”

“You are dancing around your question,” Felwinter said bluntly. “Don’t waste my time with exposition.”

Timur looked at him. “Take your helmet off,” he said. Felwinter’s posture shifted again, into something almost offended. Light sparked in his hand and Timur tensed, before the Warlord chuffed again and removed his helmet, confirming Timur’s suspicion.

Unable to help himself, Timur beamed and darted over to him, grabbing his head. Felwinter hissed in disapproval and as he did, orange lights in his throat illuminated, seeming to flicker with the sounds.

“Fascinating,” Timur said, tilting his head this way and that, examining the intricate detail of his construction. The Warlord stared at him from backlit orange eyes and Timur watched small plates shift around them, fashioning his expression into something more like a glare. Timur ducked his head and looked through the gaps in Felwinter’s cheeks, but the lights were dead now, and he frowned, unable to see the construction of his throat.

“Absolutely astonishing,” he murmured, tracing a finger up one of the antennae on either side of the Warlord’s head. “Flawless construction. Who made you? Do you recall? What caused you to awake at the Collapse?”

More questions were stifled by a pained gasp as Felwinter grabbed Timur’s forearm and yanked downward, twisting. A, literal, steel grip forcing Timur around, his back now against the exo’s chest. He fancied he could sense tiny movements, a mimic of a heart and lungs, and he wondered what powered this creature.

Fingers wrapped around Timur’s throat with the slightest pressure. A warning, but not yet a threat. Timur was well aware the exo could snap his spine with a flick of the wrist.

“I am  _not_ some museum display for you to ogle,” Felwinter hissed in his ear. “Grab me like that again and you will not get a warning.” His grip tightened, just slightly, before he let Timur go and shoved him back.

Timur rubbed his neck, smiling. “Nor would I deserve one. Forgive me, I got… excited. I would like to propose an arrangement.”

Felwinter said nothing, which Timur took as invitation to continue.

“A partnership, perhaps,” Timur offered. “Allow me to study you. Nothing invasive, I promise.”

Felwinter clacked his jaw, shaking his head slightly. “And what would I get from this… partnership?”

“What are you looking for?”

Felwinter was quiet for a moment, as if evaluating Timur, deciding whether or not to trust him. “What does the name Rasputin mean to you?”

“The Warmind… interesting. I believe our goals are near the same,” he said. “I can help you. I know my way around this sector, around all the Fallen nonsense, into secret places full of golden age treasures… What do you say, Warlord?” He held out a hand.

The exo contemplated for a moment and then stepped forward, stopping short of shaking.

“Your Iron Wolves will know nothing of this,” he said. A request or an order, Timur wasn’t sure. He smiled. He had no intention of telling the Iron Lords about Felwinter just yet.

“Not a thing,” he promised, tilting his hand slightly.

Felwinter nodded and grabbed his forearm. Timur returned the grip, keeping his face neutral, despite how pleased he was. This encounter could have gone much worse. He would have to be more careful around the exo in the future, until he figured out how volatile his emotions were.

Felwinter stepped back and Timur started making a list of things he needed to ask. Emotions were one. Power source. Manufacturing date, original purpose… But not now. Felwinter was too on edge. He would have to build to those sorts of questions. The Warlord started heading for the ledge and held out a hand for his Ghost.

“Where can I find you?” Timur asked, anticipating that he was about to disappear.

“You won’t,” Felwinter said. “I will find you, when I need you. Until then, do not try to seek me out. It will only end poorly for you.”

And with that, he was gone, transmatted to some other location by his Ghost.

 _Tall, dark, and mysterious, mm?_  Coyote commented.

“Well… two out of three.”

_You have a few calls waiting. They’re wondering where you’ve gone._

“I’m done here. Take us home.”


End file.
